


Home Is With You

by crimsoncomradeposts



Category: Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsoncomradeposts/pseuds/crimsoncomradeposts
Summary: You’d never been much of a play goer until you’d met Adam. Musicals and plays and the like were never really your thing until you met him. Seeing the transformative performance he put on the very first time you’d watched one of his plays was all it took to become hooked. You were enthralled, and ever since that night, you’d become a fan of plays—his plays.
Relationships: Adam Sackler/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Home Is With You

You’d never been much of a play goer until you’d met Adam. Musicals and plays and the like were never really your thing until you met him. Seeing the transformative performance he put on the very first time you’d watched one of his plays was all it took to become hooked. You were enthralled, and ever since that night, you’d become a fan of plays— _his_ plays.

“I’m _telling_ you, you blew that whole show _right_ out of the water!” It’s the same song and dance after every show, but you mean each word that you exclaim, and oh, how Adam eats that right up.

He’s hanging on every word, a big shit-eating grin stretched across his face. “Yeah? That good, huh? I don’t know,” he says, bringing a hand up to smooth down his hair. “I thought some things could have been better.”

“Like _what_ ,” you challenge, turning to face him as you stop near the theater’s glass doors. “Name _one_ thing.” You know he probably can, and that he probably will. Adam’s always been so obsessively nit picky about his own performances, but you challenge him still, knowing you’ll throw a counter point to each of his criticisms.

“Shit,” he says, all too quickly, fully prepared to air his grievances. “Did you hear how my voice cracked during the very first scene?”

You scoff nearly immediately at that, your head shaking. “That’s not something that you can control and you know that.” Pivoting, you turn to push the door to the theater open, and when the two of you step out under the marquis, you’re greeted by a torrential downpour.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Adam exclaims, echoing the sentiment that’s floating around in your mind.

Blowing out a breath of air, cheeks puffing when you do so, you pull your phone from your pocket and check the weather only to find that there’s no chance of the rain letting down any time soon. Slipping the phone back into your pocket, you turn to face Adam with a look that tells him all he needs to know.

The two of you can’t possibly stay there under the marquis all night, but if you make a run for it, you’ll be absolutely drenched—not to mention the fact that you’ve got your best heels on and there’s _no way_ you’re running in those.

“Fuck it,” says Adam, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

Your brows furrow and you look over at him with a confused expression. “What?”

He shrugs, the motion over-exaggerated. “Fuck it. Subway’s not that far, we can make it.”

“Adam . . .” You give him a disapproving look, your hand waving down to your heels. “I can’t run in these.”

“Who says we have to run,” he counters almost immediately, and you cannot believe what you’re hearing. Or, well, maybe you can. It _is_ Adam, after all. This wouldn’t be the worst or most outlandish idea he’s ever had.

When you fail to protest, he leans over and grabs your hand, leading you out into the downpour. It takes no time at all for the two of you to get soaked to the bone, your clothes sopping wet, and yet neither of you complain. That is, until, Adam sees the large puddle in front of the two of you

“Adam,” you warn, spotting it at the same time that he does. But he’s past the point of listening now. You’d come to see his play, and despite his self-criticisms, the play had gone well, and now you’re here with him in the rain. Life for him in this moment could not be better. “Adam, no!” But it’s too late, he’s launching himself into the air only to come crashing down feet first into the puddle, sending a splash of water outward around him, hitting you directly on your shins.

With a grin, he turns to you, motioning for you to join him. But that, that only garners a shake of your head and another verbal protest. You couldn’t possibly, not in those heels of yours. Though, in true Adam fashion, he’s having none of it. He reaches for you again, this time snatching you around your waist, laughing when you elicit a yelp. He lifts you up off of the ground and swings you up and over the puddle, setting you down in front of it while he continues to stand smack dab in the center of it.

The two of you laugh now, his arms still securely wrapped around you, and your hands now grasping his soaking wet shirt. You meet him halfway when the two of you lean in towards one another to secure a kiss. In that moment, both the city and the rain fall away, leaving just the two of you and your love for one another.


End file.
